


In Sickness And In Health

by donniedont



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dimidue Week (Fire Emblem), Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Time Skip, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 01:29:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20480714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donniedont/pseuds/donniedont
Summary: Dedue is sick and Dimitri takes the first steps toward taking care of him.  A late entry for Dimidue Week Day 1 prompt "sickness and injury."





	In Sickness And In Health

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very late contribution to Dimidue Week! There aren't specific spoilers, but it's about a version of the post-game world in which Dimitri is king. 
> 
> **Content Warning:** Brief mention of disordered eating

Dimitri woke up to Dedue coughing. It was probably inevitable. Dimitri was sick the week before and while he tried to keep his distance as best as he could, the two of them always found themselves unable to resist closing the gap between each other when they knew they were alone.

He opened his eye and saw Dedue sitting upright, facing away. He coughed again, his body shaking. It sounded fairly dry, but definitely painful. If it was anything like what Dimitri had, he was probably feeling congested and face ached. 

Dimitri reached out toward him, placing his hand against Dedue’s back. He rubbed it slowly, saying, “You caught whatever I had, didn’t you?” 

Dedue turned toward him for a brief moment. His eyes were glassy and there was a sheen across his forehead. He shook his head and faced forward again, mumbling, “I’ll be fine.”

Dimitri rolled his eye, grateful that Dedue couldn’t see. He should have known he would get that response. While Dimitri was prone to getting sick whenever the season changed, Dedue rarely did. Predictably, he was excellent at being a doting partner when Dimitri was ill, but a horrendous patient whenever he came down with something.

Dimitri got up, curling up closer against Dedue. He took the back of his hand and rested it lightly against Dedue’s forehead. He hissed, brushing his hand against Dedue’s temple and finally resting it against his cheek. “You’re warm. At least take the morning off.”

Dedue gives him a look that Dimitri can only describe as petulant before he says, “I couldn’t do that on such short notice.”

Dimitri sighed. He ran his thumb over his cheekbone, feeling scar tissue that healed through it. “Then I’ll take the morning off.” He leaned in and kissed Dedue lightly on the lips and added, “Maybe I’ll be able to take care of you for once.”

Dedue’s eyes widened, his mouth looking like it was on the verge of saying something. His body lurched and he quickly turned away, having another coughing fit.

“Lay down,” Dimitri said, “I’ll go get you something for your throat.” He slid off the bed, waiting expectantly for Dedue to get under the covers. It took a few exchanges of eye contact and raised eyebrows, but Dedue eventually huffs and lays down, bringing the blankets up to his chin. Dimitri grabbed his eyepatch from the nightstand, slipping it on. He turned around and checked to make sure Dedue was not attempting to get up. , Thankfully, he was already curled up with his eyes closed. Dimitri reached over toward him, running his thumb along the scar on his lips. Dedue kissed the pad of his thumb for the briefest moment and Dimitri grinned. He put on a relaxed tunic with embroidery that would let it come off more formal than it actually was and a pair of pants with similar detailing. He checked the bed one more time, confirming that Dedue was still there before he said, “I’ll be back soon,” and closed the door behind him.

Dimitri took a deep breath and stood up straight. He took long, careful strides as if he was floating across the floor. He told the appropriate people that he was cancelling any meetings in the morning, citing that he was going to be doing paperwork in his bedroom. When anyone asked why, he just said that he needed to work on his backlog. He would also tack on that Dedue was ill and needed to take the morning off to recover. There were several long stares, but no one outright challenged him on the decision.

He knew that his relationship with Dedue was functionally an open secret. Anyone who they thought needed to know they were together did. Everyone else knew it was a close relationship, perhaps the result of unique, shared trauma that no one else would understand. 

Once he made all the necessary cancellations, he made his way toward the kitchen. He told the staff good morning, which inevitably made them stop their morning routines, stumbling over to bow their heads toward him.

“Oh, your majesty…” the head chef started.

Dimitri shook his head and said, “Please… there’s no need for such formalities.” The staff raised their heads, their eyes still not quite making his. He sighed and asked, “I was hoping to prepare a pot of tea for Dedue. Do you happen to know how he likes his prepared?” He could feel his cheeks warming up at the admission, but it was the truth. Dedue never asked Dimitri to prepare it and he never thought to ask. He wondered if it was the result of disclosing his inability to taste. He was slowly being able to taste intense flavors, but even then, tea was much too subtle.

The staff whispered among each other for a moment, one of them admitting, “Well, we don’t prepare his tea.”

Dimitri tilted his head. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“We have an agreement that he can just… come in and do it himself,” the cook explained, “We tried to offer to do it several times, but he says that he likes doing it himself. He even prepares his own meals at times.”

Dimitri slowly nodded his head. None of this information was surprising, but it certainly didn’t help his situation. “Could I go back there and try to prepare it myself?” he asked.

The staff returned to a huddle of sorts, having an uncomfortably long whisper exchange before the head chef asked, “Are you certain you would want to do that, your majesty?”

Dimitri clenched his jaw. He didn’t know the kitchen staff personally, but Dedue came back with information from time-to-time. For someone who was perceived as stoic, it seemed like he enjoyed speaking with the staff, bringing up concerns that Dimitri knew he would never find out. He was the same way back at their days in the academy, where Dedue fretted for days about the staff having to prepare all the fish from the fishing tournament. 

“I am certain,” Dimitri confirmed, “It’s tea. I will figure it out.”

The staff cleared out a space for him to be able to enter, showing him the different variations of tea they had on hand. He thanked them and told them he was serious about how he needed to do this himself and they tentatively resumed preparing breakfast.

Dimitri took random containers of tea, reading the labels and opening them up to get a whiff of their scents. He sniffed an orange and ginger tea, taking a second sniff of it. He turned around and saw a staff member gesturing below the table. He looked down and he spotted a tea set. He grabbed each piece carefully, doing all but cradling each item as he brought it up to the tabletop. 

“Which one did you pick?” the staff member asked. Her face faltered before she said, “My apologies for being so direct, your majesty.”

Dimitri waved his hand. “I meant it when I said that you do not have to worry about formalities. I chose the orange ginger.”

She nodded her head. “Excellent choice. There’s a kettle under the table you can fill with water and heat over the fire. Once you have it heated, there should be a strainer in the teapot already. Scoop some tea in it and let it steep for four minutes or so. It’s a black tea, right?”

Dimitri looked down at the container and scanned the contents. He nodded, even though he wasn’t entirely sure.

“Then you can have it steep for awhile,” she said.

He bent down to grab the kettle and walked to a nearby basin, filling it with water. In truth, he was embarrassed that he knew so little about food. Everything in his life fell in a way that he was raised far away from the kitchen, lost his sense of taste that resulted in utter apathy toward food as a concept, and then got involved with someone who enjoyed his solitude during the preparation experience. It was a privilege, but he didn’t entirely know what to do with it. Especially when he was proving that even something as simple as preparing tea required specific instruction.

He got the kettle set up over the fire and waited. He mussed his hair and tried to pass the time watching the kitchen staff at their stations. If his presence in the kitchen gave them any anxiety, they didn’t show it once they were working. They moved with ease around their stations, cracking eggs, seasoning meats, and flipping omelettes. When serving staff arrived, they passed plates at ease, speaking in abrupt directives and numbers. They appeared so busy with their tasks, nobody seemed to acknowledge him. It was strangely freeing.

He scooped some tea in the strainer and walked toward the kettle, taking it off the fire once it came to a boil. When he returned to the table, he saw that someone left a tray for him, along with sugar, honey, and a plate of shortbread cookies. When he looked around to try to locate who it could have been, everyone was back at their stations. He pressed his lips together and resumed staring at the tea, watching the water darken as it steeped. 

He fished the strainer out once it seemed like it was long enough, putting the top back on and nearly jumping when it made a loud clanking noise. He took a deep breath, holding it as he tried to place it on the tray with a feather light touch. Once he successfully transferred everything, he took the tray, carefully shuffling his way toward the exit. He turned toward the kitchen, watching everybody work for a moment until he realized they were all staring at him. The only sound was any food sizzling in a pan. 

“Thank you for your help,” he said, “If it is all right with you, I would like to do this again.”

“Of course, your majesty,” the head chef replied, “Anytime you wish.”

Dimitri bowed his head. He was pretty sure he heard someone take a sharp breath in reaction. He looked up and said, “Thank you again” before he left. He held the tray tightly, rolling his heels as he walked to ensure that nothing would get jostled.

He returned to his room, carefully balancing the tray as he opened the door. Dedue didn’t stir, his body still on his side of the bed with his arms reaching out toward Dimitri’s. He smiled, placing the tray on the nightstand before he walked over and kissed Dedue’s forehead. He still felt warm, but he didn’t appear any worse. 

Dedue woke up moments later, nearly jumping upright. Dimitri placed his hand on Dedue’s shoulder. “It’s all right. You need your rest,” he murmured. He placed another kiss on his brow for emphasis. Dedue shifted over and Dimitri sat down on the edge of the bed, running his knuckled over the shaved part of Dedue’s hairline. Dedue shut his eyes, making a strained noise from the back of his throat.

“What’s wrong?” Dimitri asked. 

Dedue leaned forward, coughing into his arm. He finally got up, rubbing his hand against his hair. “It feels like my hair hurts. If that makes any sense.”

“I had that happen, too,” Dimitri replied. He turned toward the tray and asked, “What do you want with your tea?”

He could feel Dedue staring at him for a long moment before he asked, “What type of tea is it?”

“Orange ginger. I figured it would help.” He turned his head just enough to make eye contact with Dedue and admit, “I’m sorry. I didn’t remember your favorite tea. I promise to do better with that.”

“Ginger is my favorite. So you were close,” Dedue noted. He then quietly added, “Some honey, please.”

Dimitri nodded, pouring some into a teacup. He put some honey in it, surprised when he saw that whoever helped him included some spoons, as well. He swirled the tea together a few times before he passed the cup over toward Dedue. “Let me know if I steeped it correctly. I couldn’t try it myself.”

Dedue raised his eyebrows at this news. “You prepared this yourself?”

Dimitri nodded. He quirked his lip and said, “Well, the kitchen staff helped me with certain things, but yes.”

“Thank you. That gesture does not go unnoticed, Dimitri,” Dedue murmured before he took a sip.

Dimitri grinned, leaning in to kiss his lips as soon as Dedue brought the cup away from his mouth. He began to focus on kissing his lower lip when Dedue recoiled, placing the teacup down just before got caught up in a coughing fit. “I’m sick,” he choked out.

“With whatever I had last week,” Dimitri reminded him. He rubbed his back, waiting until Dedue’s coughing ceased before he said, “You know I can’t resist kissing you when you use my name.” 

Dedue made a chuffing noise, sitting for a long moment before he gave Dimitri more room, gesturing at the space. Dimitri removed his boots, swinging his legs over and tucking himself into bed next to him. It felt strange being on Dedue’s side of the bed, but it helped him be able to grab the teacup and give it to him with ease. 

Dedue finished his drink and Dimitri refilled it, Dedue instructing him to provide more honey this time around. He gladly did so, passing the cup to him before he said, “I told the kitchen staff I plan on helping prepare things more.”

Dedue looked like he was on the verge of coughing again. Thankfully, he didn’t. “You mean that?” he asked.

“I do,” Dimitri said. He rested his hand against Dedue’s, which was wrapped around the teacup. “I understand that you enjoy preparing meals. I can’t say I will ever truly enjoy it like you do. But you deserve to be taken care regardless of your health.”

Dedue took another sip of his tea and lifted his chin. He stared at the wall for a long moment before he said, “Well, I’m still going to have to teach you.” He coughed and they both waited for another spell to start. Thankfully, it didn’t. “I feel as though you would have a preference for baking. It’s more structured.”

“You think so?” Dimitri asked. He grabbed a cookie from the tray and bit into it. He couldn’t taste it, but at least it had a good snap. “I do plan on being able to do things on my own, though. You can’t always be there.”

Dedue looks at him with a slightly panicked look. He took a careful breath and nodded his head. “Understood,” he said. He took another sip and added, “Then we can consider this a good start. Though it’s a bit weak. You could have steeped it a minute more.”

Dimitri sighed, finishing the rest of his cookie before he said, “Well, thank you for the honest feedback.” He wiped his lips before he leaned against Dedue. Dedue laughed, kissing the top of his head before he took another sip of his tea.


End file.
